


The Fallen Gatekeeper

by EkkoRhodes



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Canon Universe, Original Character-centric, Shadowhunters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EkkoRhodes/pseuds/EkkoRhodes
Summary: I've never really written a fanfiction before.The Shadowhunter Chronicles is near and dear to my heart. This is mostly me exploring what a story about The San Francisco Greater Bay Area Institute would be like.Cameos from beloved characters will happen. Mostly OC's. I suck at writing. Enjoy.





	The Fallen Gatekeeper

March 19th, 2016

San Francisco, California

 

Caroline Brightwell spent a majority of her seventeenth birthday reading. There was a small celebration happening downstairs that she was decidedly uninterested in. People were not something she particularly excelled at. Her twin sister, Eliza, was a completely different story.

Elizabeth Brightwell was most likely downstairs entertaining the Institute’s guests and impressing her parents. It wasn’t as if people didn’t try to give Caroline attention, she just didn’t like it. It had always been that way. When she was younger, her parents had been concerned that her behavior would impact her Shadowhunter career. “How could she kill demons if she hardly leaves her room?” some would say.

The fact of the matter was that Caroline was an introvert. She excelled so much better on her own. Her old tutor, Kirsten Rosales, had had trouble understanding that and practically forced her to spar with her sisters daily. After the Dark War, Kirsten moved back to Mexico to help with the recovery effort and be closer to her family. That’s when former Silent Brother James Carstairs and his wife Tessa Gray came to the San Francisco Greater Bay Area Institute. It wasn't long before Logan Brightwell- Caroline's father and the head of the Institute - invited them to stay as Tutors.

Jem, as he preferred to be called, was more than willing to work with Caroline one on one. He respected her need for individual attention and developed a different kind of training program for her. At seventeen she is able to do some missions on her own. She had grown accustomed to being assigned the solitary tasks. Even during patrols, she is usually operating by herself.

_Thwack thwack._

“Can I come in?” It was Aimee. The eldest of the Brightwell sisters. She was the one who people often said might end up being more famous than war hero, Jace Herondale. She was already on her way to taking over the Institute. Her parents have been repeatedly invited to Idris to work there. Aimee has offered to take over, but their father won’t budge.

“I guess.” Caroline kept her eyes on the latest issue of _New Age Runes_ , a monthly magazine published by Clary Fairchild. It included new runes for the Everyday Shadowhunter. Clary was someone Caroline idolized.  She was different than other Shadowhunters, and it wasn’t just because of the Angel blood. Jace had that too. Jace was still the most Shadowhuntery Shadowhunter that ever did Shadowhunt. Maybe it’s because Clary grew up in the mundane world that made her different. Maybe…

The door opened a bit and Aimee slipped inside.

Aimee was the spitting image of their mother Patty Brightwell. Same fair skin, Auburn hair, and deep blue eyes. Caroline and her sister, looked more like their father, Logan. More olive toned skin, and dark black hair. There was an effortless way to tell the twins apart, though. Eliza had their mother’s dark blue eyes. Caroline had their father’s piercing grey ones, reminiscent of shattered ice.

“You’re missing your own birthday party, Care.” She said as if this were going to make her sister get up and celebrate another year of being alive. She should know better.

“I know.” was all that Caroline could muster as a reply, as she flipped a page of her magazine.

Aimee sat on her bed, and looked at her sister intently. “You can’t hide from up here all night.”

“Is there an emergency?” Her sister looked taken aback at the question but shook her head in response.

“Magical murders, cultists, rogue downworlders, demonic attacks… those are the things that would get me to leave my room right now. Not some frivolous party with people I don’t know or people I can see any time I want to if I need to.”

“Care…” Aimee sounded concerned.

“Don’t call me that anymore.”

Her sister looked confused yet again.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t” Caroline retorted.

“Don’t what?”

“Care.” Then she took what little attention she was giving to her sister and returned to reading her magazine.

 

After the 1906 earthquake Trinity Church was too fragile to repair. The Brightwell family acquired the property a brief time later. With the help of some local warlocks they took the Gothic inspired beauty back to its former glory, establishing the San Francisco Bay Area Institute.  There were two buildings, one of which the Brightwell family built in 1911. A small courtyard separated them. It was surrounded by a gate that might have been tall and intimidating if mundanes could see it.

That’s why the courtyard was Peter Edgewood’s favorite place in the Institute. He could watch all the mundanes walk by with their smartphones, getting picked up by their Uber cars, walking their dogs, and waiting for the bus. None of them realized that the place responsible for keeping Northern California safe from Demonic threats was right behind them.

“Hey” A familiar voice took him out of his trance.

“Hey Eliza. How’s the party?” He asked staring straight ahead. Sometimes he swore he could see people watching the Institute. Even though it was impossible. Mundanes couldn’t see this place. It was glamoured. And still… every once in a while he’ll see someone walk by steal a glance and shake their head as if they were off to deal with better things.

“Fine, except my twin sister and my best friend are sitting around moping and not enjoying the festivities.” Eliza sighed. She expected this from Caroline but for the last week Peter had been acting weird. “Is everything ok? Is it your dad?”

“It’s not my dad.” He said quickly and finally turned to face her, his green eyes looking at her like poison darts. “I just needed some air. Now I’m tired. I think I’m going to go to bed.”

He stood up and headed towards the large red double doors when they opened outward almost hitting him. It was Tessa. “Good, I found you. 'Liza, we're going to have to cut the party short, your parents are having an emergency meeting.”

 

Clary Fairchild had never been to the San Francisco Institute. She had been to the Los Angeles Institute, and the Boston Institute, and spent most of her time at the New York Institute. This was her first time at the San Francisco Institute. The first thing she noticed was that it was so much smaller than the others she had been at. Growing up in a city that had too many people in it, she thought it would be similar with all the buildings reaching to the sky.  This place was just packed in at all sides. It had the same amount of people as Manhattan Island and managed to be smaller.

“Why is there a famous Shadowhunter in my kitchen?”

Clary turned to find a young girl with icy eyes and mid-length dark hair staring at her half in wonder and half with concern. “I’m supposed to be having a last-minute meeting with Logan. Are you one of his daughters?”

 She sauntered over to the fridge and grabbed a cup of yogurt, “I’m Caroline. I was just reading your new issue.”

“Nice to meet you I’m Clary!”

“I know.”

They sat there awkward for second before Jem came in. “Clarissa! Good you’re here, we really needed your consultation. Colin just brought the body in.”

More silence.

“Hi Caroline.”

“Hi James.”

Silence. “So, Colin brought in a body. Can I see?”

“This is a more dangerous matter. We don’t have all the details. We had to call Ms. Fairchild in last minute. I don’t want to waste her time.”

“Clary was younger than me when she was a hero in the dark war.” Caroline kept her voice flat. She wasn’t the type to whine, she spoke calmly with an air of ‘I know I’m right.’ It reminded Clary of her fiancé, though he had more of an edge of faux narcissism.

“Caroline-”

“Is right.” It was Tessa. She had, what must have been Caroline’s twin and a boy with dirty blonde hair and green eyes follow her in. Since the war, many institutes had taken in the children of their friends like the Brightwells and the Blackthorns and still others were left to the Academy until they were of age.

“The youth need some real investigative challenges. Remember Shadowhunting isn’t all about patrols and werewolf bar fights gone wrong.” Tessa told her husband.

“Says the warlock.”

“Says the warlock who has been married to two Shadowhunters, raised two Shadowhunters and helped run the London Institute.” She pecked his lips and moved along.

“It’s good to see you Clary.” She pulled the red-head into a brief hug.

“Not that I’m not loving the affectionate welcome and the ability to bear witness to your marital banter, but I was under the impression that something was up.”

Tessa’s face turned serious. “Come the body is in the training room.”

 

“I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m still confused as to why I’m here.” Clary said staring at what appeared to be a dead Shadowhunter on the training room floor.

“Looks like one of us, right?” An older man spoke up, his eyes were just like ice and he had jet black hair.  Logan Brightwell was standing over the body, contemplatively. He holds up his hand – “No family ring. Not carrying any Seraph Blades or other weapons.”

A woman with red-brown hair and all business demeanor handed Clary a wand-like object. “I don’t get it. It’s a stele.”

“That’s what I thought too” A sandy haired young man with crooked glasses perched on his nose spoke. “Hi, I’m Colin Ashdown by the way.” The young woman - who looks nearly identical to Patricia Brightwell – hits him softly. “Right. The Stele. I examined it three times over. And that’s not Adamas.”

Logan turns Clary’s attention back to the body. “This is why we called you in. You are supposed to be the Rune expert. These aren’t Raziel’s. We thought you might recognize them.”

She looks over the dead man’s skin. A symbol on his right hand where most Shadowhunters get the Voyance rune – unless their left handed – was a rune she drew known as Shelter. She sees the other symbols that dance upon his cold flesh, some identifiable as ‘hers’ and others unknown to her yet strangely familiar.

“So, we have a dead Not-Shadowhunter, with a Not-Stele, wearing my Runes. Just another day in the life. Cause of death?”

Logan turns the man’s neck to show bloodied bite marks.

“At least we have a lead.”


End file.
